


Remembrance

by soprano_buddy15



Category: The Last Kingdom, The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Dunholm, Flashbacks, Sihtric is a sad boi, Uhtred's a good friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23947846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soprano_buddy15/pseuds/soprano_buddy15
Summary: Sihtric remembers his life at Dunholm.
Comments: 11
Kudos: 45





	Remembrance

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my very first post on AO3, and I am very excited to share it with you all! I believe that Sihtric is an amazing character, and extremely underrated. Plus, Arnas Fedaravicius plays him so well. I've always wanted to explore Sihtric a bit more, and this just came to me! Please enjoy, and constructive criticism is always welcome!

Sihtric sat at the gloomy table, pondering whether another mug of ale would be a good idea. The rest of Uhtred's men sang around Ragnar's hall in Dunholm. This place had never welcomed him, and the memories of everything that happened in this place tended to overwhelm him. 

"Alright, Sihtric, I'm off to bed." Finan stood shakily and blinked slowly, swaying on his feet. "Well, hopefully."

Sihtric smiled softly. "I'm sure you'll be fine."

Finan looked at him gently, his eyes clear and knowing. "You make sure you sleep tonight, Sihtric." He softly rested his hand on Sihtric's shoulder before pulling away.

The ale was beginning to be flavourless, and Sihtric wondered whether they were starting to water it down. Throwing back the last of the ale in his mug, he stood and walked into the courtyard. 

Even the sight of it was hard for him to bear. The courtyard was empty of people, yet he could fill it so clearly in his mind. Just in front of him he could picture Young Ragnar brutally mauling his father after their battle. As much as he despised Kjartan, no warrior deserved what he got. He swallowed hard, that glorious and exciting day that turned so brutal so quickly filling his mind. 

Taking a shuddering gasp, he turned and looked at the stable where Skade was being held. Another memory entered his mind, so clear it was as though it was happening right in front of him. Almost in a daze, Sihtric walked toward the left side of the building. 

Carefully avoiding the open door and the ram's head that Brida staked out front, he tenderly placed his hand on the half-hidden door handle and pushed. 

The door barely opened, its rough bottom scraping on the uneven ground. But Sihtric knew this door. Lifting the handle up and ramming his shoulder into the door, it burst open and he nearly fell through the doorframe. 

The image in his mind became even clearer. The pile of hay where he used to sleep was still bundled in the corner, albeit full of mold and smelling strongly of mildew. His mother's wooden pallet was set up beside, rotting and breaking. He knelt beside it, running his fingers over the disintegrating blanket. As he lifted it up, a flash of silver falling to the dirt floor caught his eye. It clicked quietly as it bounced off of the pallet and onto the floor. Sihtric furrowed his brow, and felt his heart stop as he stooped to pick up the small piece of silver. 

His mothers cross. 

The tears fell softly as he remembered prancing around his mother as she worked quickly to mend Kjartan's tunic. One memory stood out as he glanced at the small stool in the other corner of the room.

_Ealfled gasp suddenly as the sharp needle pierced her calloused fingers. Sihtric stopped jumping around the room and waving the stick he had found in the wood. "Ma?" He questioned, watching her suck her finger._

_"It's nothing, love, just a small cut." She smiled at him and continued to work._

_He grabbed her hand and examined her finger closely. It was already closing up, slightly red and with a small smudge of dark blood at the very tip. "I could handle this," Sihtric declared, determined for his eight years. "As a warrior, I wouldn't even feel this if I got cut."_

_Ealfled laughed and cupped her hand around his chin. "Oh, my dear boy," she stroked her thumb across his dirty cheek. "You could handle anything." ___

__The memory burned behind Sihtric's eyes as he brought the Christian cross up to his mouth and kissed it. Sniffling, he brought the leather cord over his head and tucked it under his tunic, beneath his mark of Thor's hammer._ _

__"Sihtric?" He whirled around at the sound of his name. Uhtred stood in the doorway, confusion on his face. "What are you doing?"_ _

__Sihtric furiously wiped his eyes. "Nothing, lord." His voice stuck thickly in his throat._ _

__Of course, Uhtred didn't buy it. He walked into the dingy room, his eyes noticing everything, from the hay in the corner to the mussed blankets. Uhtred finished his tour of the room and came to a stop directly in front of Sihtric. "Are you sure?" He asked, his voice soft. He looked from Sihtric to the pile of hay, and a small glimmer of understanding came into his eyes. "You've never really talked about living at Dunholm."_ _

__"I've, um, discussed it with Finan, lord." He dodged the underlying question that Uhtred posed. "It's not usually something I wish relive."_ _

__Uhtred nodded in understanding. "I suppose, though, it's sometimes important to bring it up again, even if we don't want to." Uhtred place his hand on Sihtric's shoulder. "I need you at your best."_ _

__Sihtric was silent for a long moment. "I slept in that hay pile for nine years," he started softly. "My mother took the hard pallet, as Kjartan refused to provide more hay for the two of us. We were fortunate to even have a separate room, but Kjartan liked knowing where my mother was when he... desired her." He shook his head, the tears coming fresh again. "The number of times I would wake up to Kjartan pounding on the door, and my mother leaving..."_ _

__"She told me that she was taken from a village not far from here, a Christian village. She told me stories from the Bible before she sent me to bed for the night, taught me the prayers. But I never really took to them. How could God, who is supposed to be _good_ , let this man treat my mother this way?" He scoffed, and pulled the cross out from his tunic. "She hid this from Kjartan for _fifteen years_ , Uhtred. She worshiped it, and yet, God continued to have us beaten and starved at the hands of Kjartan."__

______Uhtred was silent as Sihtric ended his rant. Sihtric was obviously distressed, his chest rising rapidly with his shallow breaths. As he calmed, Sihtric turned red and looked to the ground. "My apologies, lord. I did not mean-"_ _ _ _ _ _

______"How did you get out?" Uhtred interrupted. "When you came to me, you were with Tekil."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Sihtric nodded, almost relieved to keep going. "Kjartan wanted nothing to do with me. I was a black mark in his fortress, with his firstborn and heir so close to me. I nearly got sold to slavers when I was nine, but Tekil stepped in and took me. He needed a runt like myself to do the dirty work. But under him, I learned sword-skills and grew. Tekil came to appreciate my skill and I worked for him. Where he went, I went. Even if that meant back to Dunholm._ _ _ _ _ _

______"My mother was pleased that I was growing and becoming strong. I had never been a large child, never having enough to eat. But one time, coming back, my mother could barely stand from the pain of her broken ribs. Her eyes, black from being beaten." He glared up at Uhtred, his eyes hard. "I've never wanted to kill any man more than that moment."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Uhtred believed him._ _ _ _ _ _

______"She assured me that she would be okay. She always cared for me above herself, and I always have taken advantage of that." Sihtric put the cross back into his tunic. "I have never regretted that more."_ _ _ _ _ _

______"What happened?"_ _ _ _ _ _

______Sihtric glanced back up at Uhtred, and smiled dejectedly. "That was the last time I spoke with her. She had decided to go back to rest after taking the beating from Kjartan," he gestured around the room. "She had picked berries for most of the morning. As it turns out, she picked nightshade."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Uhtred was very quiet as he understood what was happening. "Sihtric, you don't need to continue."_ _ _ _ _ _

______He shook his head and sat heavily down on the stool. "Please, it's helping. The next morning Kjartan emerged from his chambers, ill and shaky. He demanded they find my mother, and when they brought her to him, he cut her throat. She had poisoned him, but had not given enough berries to kill him._ _ _ _ _ _

______"I had to come back with Tekil every time we returned to Dunholm for the next three years. Kjartan ignored me, would not even address me or look at me. It was like nothing had changed. I was ecstatic when Kjartan assigned Tekil to get you, as I hoped that I would be able to defect."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Uhtred clasped his hand on Sihtric's shoulder. "And am I ever so glad I decided to to keep a hostage. You are one of my best men, Sihtric. You have proven time and time again that you live by honour and loyalty, and that is important to me." Uhtred tapped the ring on Sihtric's left hand. "Your mother taught you to love, and you have found it and embraced it. You have a beautiful wife and son, and you teach him everyday how to live with honour."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Sihtric sat in silence, Uhtred's speech overwhelming him before the tears started flowing again. The words were out. The weight that had been on Sihtric's shoulders since coming to Dunholm was lifted and he felt his spirit settle. Gasping, Sihtric leaned forward and accepted Uhtred's comforting arms._ _ _ _ _ _


End file.
